Lost Opportunity
by Winterkist
Summary: Unrequited love still clings to everything...even when you wish it didn't exist at all. one-sided Cordelia/Chrom. Chrom/Sumia. Post Chapter 9 FEA spoilers.


**A/N:** _I__nspired by a conversation I had while on Miiverse. :3 I had a very set destination in mind when I began to write this—a confrontation between Cordelia and Sumia that would become the stuff of legend, but as you can see, it turned into something completely different and perhaps, arguably better. ;) But as this is my first FE:A fanfic, your opinion would be greatly appreciated. ^^ (Also, I am aware that Phila is presumably deceased at this point, but I really wanted her in this so I have written her in. :3 #canonwhatiscanon xD)_

The wedding of course, had spared no expense. The event was attended far and wide in great number. She had tried to get out of attending, of course, even going as far as to 'lose' her invitation, but Phila's sense of intuition appeared to be God-given, though by whom, Cordelia wasn't sure. Surely Naga wouldn't inflict more pain and sadness upon her…

"I am aware you still grieve," she had said, "but this is a time of celebration, renewal. We are safer now than we have been in years…"

"I know, Phila, but I feel so guilty when others didn't even survive this war—"

"Cordelia." Phila stopped her piss-poor tirade in its tracks. She smiled at her affectionately and then said, "It is not a sin to celebrate when happiness has graced us once more. It is what your sisters would have wanted…"

And after that of course, there were no further arguments. Phila simply wasn't that way—she said what needed to be said and carried out what needed to be done without reservation. Cordelia greatly admired her of course, but it was times like these where she wished she _could_ have a proper argument with her mentor for once. She simply could not attend this wedding. It would be…entirely too painful. But not attending would raise suspicion she was sure, and this secret was best kept alone. It was far too late to do anything about it anyway, even if she had wanted to.

Unfortunately, Phila's insistence that she attend had more reason than mere obligatory celebration. A little less than an hour before the wedding was to take place, Phila sought her out in the burgeoning crowd of villagers and dignitaries from neighboring kingdoms. The elder knight was effortlessly radiant in white linen rather than her usual state of armor, but Cordelia should have turned and ran upon viewing Phila's very single-minded expression.

"Ah, Cordelia, I'm so glad you've come," she said warmly, greeting Cordelia in her usual way by clasping both hands in hers. If Cordelia wasn't mistaken, this was something the elder knight had picked up from the late Exalt Emmeryn herself. "You look very lovely."

"Thank you, Phila," she replied earnestly and meant it. She had fretted almost the entire day on what to wear, but it seemed as though simplicity had been the correct choice after all—pale lavender kimono with gold trim. It was lovely, but understated—and all she wanted was the ground to swallow her up. "You look very nice yourself."

"Thank you. As I was saying, I'm glad you have come and as a matter of fact, it is fortunate you arrived early—Naga must approve of this union; the bride-to-be is asking for you."

"W—What?!" She could not conceal her shock; what on _earth_ would Chrom's future wife want to do with her?!

"Yes, it is rather strange, isn't it? But I have tried my best to fill all her needs—and you know how difficult that is; she rarely asks for anything, but she seemed quite insistent to speak with you."

Phila smiled patiently—yet another mannerism rubbed off, it seemed—while Cordelia tried her best not to panic. She knew very well by Phila's tone and her wording that she fully expected Cordelia to comply to this unexpected whim of the bride's, but that wasn't going to be easy.

"A—Are you quite sure she's asking after me? I mean, if it's a woman she needs, there are _plenty_ willing women here who would be happy to assist—"

"Yes, I am quite sure," Phila said firmly, but the smile had not left her face. "Her exact words were, 'Could you summon Cordelia for me? I know it's really short notice, but I'd like some help putting this headpiece on'. In the event that I could not find you, I am of course expected to do it myself, but now that I have…" she trailed off and it now seemed that holding Cordelia's hands had had a dual purpose—to drag her toward Sumia's bedchambers to do just that. Cordelia's further protests however, fell on deaf ears.

**ғᴇ:ᴀ**

Phila knocked on the door with her free hand. "Milady, I have Cordelia here with me," she announced.

"Okay, come in, Cordelia!" Sumia called from the other side of the door. Phila smiled at her again. "The lady bids you enter, my dear."

Cordelia frowned. "Y—Yes. I can see that." Phila left the corridor only after Cordelia had opened the door and stepped inside.

The moment she got a good look at Sumia, jealousy took her breath away. Today, Chrom was going to have his bride and she…how was she supposed to live on? Keeping her distance from Chrom had never equated to this in her mind—but then again, she had counted on a new assignment at the end of the war, far away from Chrom so her heart could learn to live without him…But that hadn't happened. In fact, Phila had promoted her, which both thrilled and destroyed her. Now she saw Chrom almost every day—and the pain was growing almost unbearable.

"Cordelia? Are you alright?" Sumia asked in concern. "You look really pale all of a sudden…I can call for a healer…"

She tried to smile, but it hurt. "No, of course not. I'm…fine."

Sumia peered at her suspiciously for only a few seconds more. "Well, as long as you're sure…And could you please close the door? We're trying to keep my hiding place a secret…"

"Hiding place?" Cordelia asked, intrigued in spite of herself as she complied to Sumia's first request.

"Well, it's tradition to keep the bride away from the groom until the wedding, but they've really taken it seriously around here. I've not seen Chrom all day."

"But…isn't this _your_ bedchamber?" Cordelia noticed there wasn't a bed anywhere, but there was another door behind Sumia's seated form—and she was sitting in front of the largest and most elegant mirror Cordelia had ever seen.

"No, it's actually Phila's—or well, Phila arranged it for me. I'm not exactly sure if it's hers or not…"

Focusing on anything other than the impending nuptials was the only thing keeping Cordelia breathing right now. She latched on to this conversation with gusto. "You know, come to think of it, I don't remember seeing any guards down this hallway—"

"Yeah, it's all part of the illusion," Sumia smiled. "No guards around surely means no bride."

"Are you sure that's safe?" she asked with a surprising amount of concern. As much as she wished to be in Sumia's place right now…any harm that befell her would be tantamount to disaster. Chrom was almost crazy with grief after losing his elder sister. There was no way he'd survive if—

"Well, I do have you here to protect me now, don't I?" Sumia asked sweetly. "I'm sure there are other guards around. Phila wouldn't leave me unprotected now, would she?"

Now she was breathless for an entirely different reason. "Sumia, you are…very kind. I'm happy you think so highly of me, but…"

"Oh, do you not actually do your hair? Oh, did I mess up _again?_ I never saw anyone else actually putting your hairpiece in so I just assumed you always did it yourself." Sumia sighed heavily and looked at the floor. "I'm _so_ sorry. I've always secretly thought your hair looked beautiful, even when we had been out battling for weeks and hadn't had the opportunity to stop and properly bathe anywhere—leave it to me to completely screw everything up…"

"Sumia, slow down!" Cordelia interjected, smiling a little. Now why had she completely avoided Sumia before? She ignored the voice inside her that already knew the answer: the threat of unfiltered jealousy. _No_ future bride of Chrom's deserved that.

Cordelia swallowed and returned to her halfhearted smile. "As a matter of fact, I _do_ fix my hair myself, ever since I was a little girl…"

"Oh, I'm so relieved!" Sumia exclaimed, seemingly seconds from tears if her glistening eyes were any indication. "I was so afraid I had offended you…Me and my big mouth…"

Cordelia found herself smiling at her again, the halfhearted feeling ebbing away. "No…it's okay." Indeed, it certainly wasn't Sumia's fault that Cordelia was in this mess… "Now let's see this headpiece…"

Sumia pulled it out of the top drawer of the bureau she was facing. "I picked all of the flowers myself, see. I only hope it's pretty enough…"

"Sumia, this is _lovely_," Cordelia gasped. "You made this _yourself?!"_

"Well…yes," Sumia admitted, a red tinge to her cheeks. "It was the least I could do. All of those servants running around and preparing—I decided to do something that I knew I could do myself rather than burden anyone unnecessarily…"

"I think this looks better than anything a servant could've gone out and bought or made himself," Cordelia praised, "but mostly because you made it yourself."

"_Really?_ D—Do you think Chrom will like it?"

Cordelia looked the lovely maiden over, an absolute vision in pink; flower headband fully complementing all of the tiny details inlaid in the lace, with white, blue, and dark pink flowers. She thought about Chrom and thought about what his reaction would be when he saw Sumia.

He would love it, of course. He would love everything about it. Everything about _her_.

"Cordelia? What's wrong? Look, you don't have to lie—I made another one just in case this one looked bad—"

She was crying. How embarrassing. "I'm—It's not that, I—"

"What's wrong?" Sumia asked again rising from her chair, the concern in her voice so tangible it just made everything worse, and so much more real. Sumia was getting married today. Not her. She hadn't really thought this through at all…If she didn't have Chrom, who on earth would she have? How could she love anyone else like that? And breaking down like this…in the bride's dressing chamber when she wasn't the bride…It was downright reprehensible.

All of a sudden, Cordelia felt someone much smaller and shorter than her embrace her. Cordelia usually kept everyone at an arm's length, but couldn't bring herself to push Sumia away. Maybe she had finally grown weak. "Whatever it is, Cordelia, it sounds—_awful."_ She sounded close to tears herself. "I'm sorry if I was the cause—whether directly or indirectly."

It was too much—she couldn't stay here. Sumia should not be embracing the woman who was so jealous, so desperate to be in her place. It wasn't right, like a sinner turned saint overnight, or rain on a day where it was supposed to be perfect. She was the rain. She did not belong. It should be the other way around, where she reassured a nervous bride—this was all…wrong. All of it.

She cried for only a few more minutes—it was all she would allow herself. She knew the moment she returned home she would cry more, but for now she had to suck it up and pretend—yet again—that she was enjoying herself when she really wasn't.

"Sumia, I'm…"

Sumia stepped away from her only when the crying had ceased, and she did not emerge unscathed; she had obviously cried as well. She wiped her eyes and cracked a small smile. "It's okay. We all need to do that sometimes, don't we?"

"Yes, but—" she broke off, glaring, furious with herself for that momentary slip-up. "—on your wedding and everything. I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened at all. And it _won't_ happen again," she said firmly.

"Cordelia…emotion isn't a weakness," Sumia said sadly. "I'm not going to ask what that was about, but it sounded very…heartwrenching and pent-up, if you'll forgive me for saying so…

"Yeah, it's disgusting—"

"Please don't do this to yourself," Sumia begged, her eyes filling up with tears again. "At least, not in front of me. I can't bear it…If not me, please confide in _somebody_. It would really bother me to think you were going through something that sounds that painful alone."

But she wasn't a charity case. She didn't need anyone's pity. That attack of emotion had caught her by surprise, but if anyone knew the reason behind it…they would agree how hopeless it had been right from the start. Her and Chrom just weren't meant to be—that's all there was to it.

"I'll—I'll try," she said begrudgingly, fully intending to do nothing of the sort.

"That's all I ask, Cordelia," Sumia said, placing her hand on Cordelia's arm. "We care about you—all the shepherds do and I'm sure they'd agree with me. No one should have to deal with pain like that alone."

If Sumia had been Emmeryn…maybe Cordelia would have chosen to confide in her, but as it stood, Sumia was no replacement, comforting though her advice had been. Cordelia expertly placed the beautiful flower band in Sumia's hair and never spoke of the incident again—or of how she wept all night long later on, just as she had predicted.


End file.
